Lionel Trilling memorably spoke of the “dark and bloody crossroads where politics and literature meet," usually at grave expense of both. Quite without realizing it, Jewcy has cultivated a special genre of criticism that explores this messy intersection as it relates to politics and music.

Over the past few months we’ve run a series of articles and interviews concerned with the dynamic potential, and ideological trappings, of folk, rock, Britpop, “glam rap” and post-punk.

What happens when aging 60’s legends flirt with notions of Jewish power? How has Nine Inch Nails’ Romantic cult of death morphed, as Paul Berman might have foreordained, into a high concept ditto of Islamist reaction? Also, who the hell taught Morrissey to smile?

Check out our harmonious highlights below, and click here for even more Jewcy music coverage.

Subterranean Homeland Blues

More than simply parsing lyrics (although that gets done too), New Yorker staff writer Jeffrey Goldberg asks what ineluctable Jewish qualities make Bob Dylan’s “Neighborhood Bully” and Lou Reed’s “Good Evening, Mr. Waldheim” primal screams of Hebraic defiance.

The Fall and Rise of Mickey Stardust

Ex-Orthodox, ex-junkie, ex-hustler Mickey Avalon is an entrancing fusion of Beastie and Bowie, good enough for squealing tween girls and the Entourage soundtrack. He’s come a long way, baby. Neille Illel interviews him.

A Blacklist the Left Could Use

Blacklist frontman and Euston Manifesto signatory Josh Strawn uses his songwriting – awash in references to 1917 and, come to think of it, Lionel Trilling – to promote classical leftist principles.

Al Qaeda Finds Its Rock Star

Jewcy contributor Josh Strawn (yep, the same guy) thinks Trent Reznor has swapped the absinthe for a more toxic brew of political “relevance” and devolved into paranoid Bin Ladenism on his new album Year Zero.

He Just Might Die with a Smile on His Face

The Smiths turned 25 this year. Jewcy Associate Editor Michael Weiss explores the curious trajectory of singer-songwriter Morrissey, whose lugubrious youth almost guaranteed his going the way of Keats and James Dean. But now the Pope of Mope is all grown up, out of the closet, and remarkably…well-adjusted.